


The Sun

by magiclaud



Series: Inktober [7]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Apollo x Icarus, Apollo! America, Daedalus - Freeform, Evil America, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Icarus AU, Kidnapping, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Philosophy, Power Dynamics, Power Play, UKUS, USUK - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 09:55:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13269000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magiclaud/pseuds/magiclaud
Summary: Based on the story of Icarus. Do not let logos dare the myth.





	The Sun

As soon as the small figurine was placed on the floor, the wooden creature delighted the children by starting to move. Cries of delightful surprise were heard, and everyone nearby stared dumbfounded at the toy while Arthur Kirkland couldn’t contain the urge to smirk. He lightly bowed at his king once his majesty diverged his awed sight from the plaything of his sons.

“This is incredible, Arthur. How did you do it?” Arthur was about to answer, but one of the infants was quicker.

“He used magic, like the Gods. Right, Arthur?” Arthur did nothing more than cup the child’s hair, inching closer to the prince.

“I’m afraid the Gods have nothing to do with something like this, your majesty,” Arthur looked at the horizon, almost daringly, while continuing to speak. “It is no more than thoughts. Arche, even,” no one quite understood what he was talking about, but then again the court’s sage was greater than any other that stepped on the lands.

*

Arthur returned to the island six days after his departure. When he arrived, dozens of people were grouped, patting his back and kissing his cheeks so he would tell them his secret.

“My secret, my friends, is that I do not fear the favour of the Gods, nor I wait for them to answer my prayers,” Arthur proclaimed while he drank wine with his mates and gestured the ship’s sails. “Today I could control the wind. And, in no time, you all will,” Arthur was feeling giddy. When his face looked up, he saw an impassive light staring back at him, and jokingly bowed to grandiloquence of the sun.

*

Arthur entered sweaty and so tired he felt his body was made of stone. He had a stoop, and his golden hair was acquiring grey lines. The room was dark, and he could only look upon when Pythia turned to him.

“What is it that you desire to know, grand sage?”

“I want to ask your god if the myths are true. I want to ask him if he’s eternal.”

“Of course he is,” said the High Priestess. Arthur snorted.

“Well then, does he not exist?”

“What?”

“If there’s an existence, it isn’t eternal. Everything moves. Everything changes. But Apollo does not. He lays there and is to be worshipped by citizens. He provokes wars, and he is to have every answer to the cosmos, although I’ve yet to travel somewhere where the polis worships the same Gods. Why is that, oh oracle? Why are we leaving for war for something non-existant?” Arthur wanted to leave, but Pythia held him by his arm.

“You will see the grace of the Gods and understand their beings are what matter the most,” Arthur smirked, shoved her off him, and walked out the temple.

“Be my guest,” he murmured, as the sun started rising on a new day.

*

As Arthur welcomed him, Herakles walked through his friend’s house. Curtains covered the outside world, and most of Arthur’s tools were organized in the corner of the room. If Herakles had to outline something about the house, he thought, that would be the myriad of candles that lit up the room, and he didn’t have trouble questioning the reason for it.

“I was praying for you, I was,” Arthur said, although they both knew the answer hid something else.

“You won’t fight by my side, will you? Are you afraid, Arthur? Is that it?”

“I’m not afraid,” Arthur turned to search for something. “But I refuse to spill blood for nothing. And I refuse to sell my inventions to help this massacre,” Herakles saw a ceramic plate on the floor and stepped onto it. The sound made Arthur stiffen.

“You’re so arrogant! You think you can stay here, stoic from everything that’s happening!” Herakles pulled the curtains. The rays of sunshine fell into the room.

Arthur covered his eyes.

“I told you there is another way,” he groaned. “You’ll see. There is another way.”

*

Arthur’s arms felt heavy. His throat was burning, and his bones cracked as he flew over the polis. He couldn’t help to look down and witness hundreds of bodies lying on the roads. The smell could be sensed from where he was.

“You seem tired, buddy, don’t you want to rest?”

Arthur looked down again, then wondered if he was going berserk.

“I’m up here, sport. For someone so sophisticated, you aren’t much of a looker,” they said, chuckling at the undertone of the sentence. Soon enough, Arthur was able to find a body that accompanied the voice. A large shadow stood before him, so marvelous Arthur had to remind himself to keep moving his wings.

“A man that flies, huh? Was this your wish, little robin?” clouds started to cover Arthur’s route, and he began to feel helpless. However, as a hand reached for him, Arthur felt a blind determination to take it and let himself pull into the insides of the atmosphere. As they stood closer, Arthur distinguished their features. Golden skin, golden hair, and eyes as blue as the ocean. His tunic covered one of his shoulders, as well as most of his body, and he emanated a heat stronger than anything Arthur had studied before.

“You’re adorable,” the other smirked, pulling Arthur into his lap. Arthur was frightened at the change of pressure, and so he hugged the man’s neck. Arthur wanted to say something, but he was trembling so much he felt his voice would be too rushed.

“I-I’m— ”

“Oh, I know exactly who you are,” the man said. “You’re Arthur of the land of Kirk, but you were exiled to Crete when you were young, where you were treated like a citizen.”

“Yes, that’s right. May I — May I ask — ?”

“What, Arthur? My name? You will call me Alfred, that is it. It’s a fine name, don’t you think?” Arthur blinked, unable to comprehend the situation. Alfred stiffened.

“Say it.”

“It’s a nice name, Alfred.”

“Yes, it is. You must be grateful to call me that and not the twisted amalgam commoners call me. Most of them would kill to be in your place,” Alfred’s words were like a spell that kept Arthur still as hands circled his waist. Suddenly Arthur felt a sharp pain while an unpleasant odor disturbed him. Arthur squeaked but didn’t dare to step away. “There it is. I have to mark you before we go to my home.”

Arthur looked puzzled. “I-I don’t think that would be possible. I was in a middle of a journey and I— ” Alfred chuckled again. Soon, he started laughing so hard the clouds trembled.

“Oh, Arthur. You’re not as sharp as I took you for. I quite like it, though. Your ignorance makes me laugh.”

“What— ” Arthur couldn’t finish the sentence, as suddenly the clouds were dispersed and he saw the remaining feathers of his wings of fax, floating into the high tide. As Arthur focused on the waves, he couldn’t help to notice the blood staining such beautiful sight.

Arthur forgot how to breathe.

Alfred turned Arthur’s face to him and their noses touched. “What was it that you told me at Delphi, Artie? That I couldn’t exist? Well, then,” Alfred pampered his face with kisses, and Arthur felt his face burning. Arthur tried to scream but to no avail. When they parted, Alfred touched his cheek in what appeared to be a soothing gesture, though it became blind fear as Arthur felt his skin dissolving like the wax of his wings. “You don’t exist.”

Arthur’s head was spinning. He tried to find a reason, tried to find a logos for the scene before him, but couldn’t do it. And, as realisation dawned upon him, Arthur became desperate.

“Don’t worry; you have the whole arche to repent,” Alfred’s hands roamed over his body, burning the skin until it was as pink as a pig. “You dared me, after all. Now we will have a talk, and I won’t leave you alone until you give it to me.”

Arthur frowned. He didn’t understand. For once in a long time, he didn’t understand. And it made him shiver.

“Give you what?” he murmured, afraid to disturb the God. Alfred played with the locks of his hair, and Arthur felt them falling into the water while he smelt the dust.

“Your knowledge, your vision,” their mouths collided, but it was not long after Alfred let him go to talk again. “Your submission, your obedience. Your example,” suddenly, the tide was so high Arthur almost touched the water. Alfred laughed as Arthur stared at his own corpse creeping to the seashore. Arthur felt his eyes, his head, his genius melting. “And I’m going to do whatever it takes to ensure that. Did I make myself clear?” Arthur couldn’t answer, for his mouth and his face had melted completely and all he saw now were bones and burned meat. Soon he decided it didn’t matter anymore, so he indulged himself into falling in Alfred’s eyes.

Eventually, he nodded.

**Author's Note:**

> REFERENCES: 
> 
> *Controlling the wind or building a mechanical toy were some of the inventions of Daedalus, Icarus’ father, who also invented the wings of wax.
> 
> *Arche: The first Greek philosophers identified the arche as the element that explained the universe as they knew —every philosopher had their own interpretation of what the arche meant for them.
> 
> *The Delphi oracle was said to be where Apollo would answer a visitor’s question. Well-known philosophers like Socrates went to the Delphi oracle to try to disperse their doubts.
> 
> *Arthur’s monologue about existence is based on the philosophical principles of Parmenides, a sophist philosopher.
> 
> *Myths were known to be the precedent of critical thinking, as that was the first form of explanation for the way the world worked. Soon enough, the pre-socratic philosophers started to incline to logos (logic) and rejected the myths.
> 
> *The genius was something Socrates referred to quite often as a deity who inspired him on his philosophical thoughts. Socrates’ enemies used this as some of the evidence to arrest him and sentence him to death, as it was illegal to worship other gods.


End file.
